“Twenty-four years is a long time to hold a grudge, and it wouldn't be smart to bomb the judge's car the week he gets out. Waters is smarter than that, but maybe he's more comfortable in prison. If it's someone like that, it'll surface eventually. Whoever did it will talk, and we'll get a phone call from an informant. Most of the leads we get are either anonymous tips, or paid informants.” It was a whole subculture Fernanda knew nothing about, and didn't want to. And although it was frightening, it was also fascinating to hear him talk about it. “A lot of these people connect and are linked to each other in some way. And they're not great at keeping secrets. They're almost compelled to talk about it, which is lucky for us. In the meantime, we have to check out every lead we've got, and all our hunches. Waters was nothing more than a hunch, and it's probably too obvious, but it's worth checking out anyway. Do you mind if I show Sam the mug shot?”
“Not at all.” She was curious herself now if Sam would recognize him, although she didn't want him put at risk by identifying a criminal who might try to hurt him and get revenge for it later. She turned to Ted then with a question. “What if he does recognize him? Will Sam's identity be kept secret?”
“Of course. We're not going to put a six-year-old child at risk,” he said gently. “Or even an adult for that matter. We do everything we can to protect our sources.” She nodded, relieved, and he followed her up the sweeping staircase to Sam's bedroom. There was an immense chandelier overhead that dazzled him when he looked at it. Fernanda had bought it in Vienna, from yet another crumbling palace, and had it shipped, in tiny individual crystal pieces, to San Francisco.
She knocked on the door of Sam's room, and opened it with Ted standing right behind her. Sam was playing with his toys on the floor.
“Hi.” Sam grinned up at him. “Are you going to arrest me now?” It was obvious that he wasn't the least concerned about Ted's visit, and even seemed pleased to see him. He had felt very important on Sunday, when Ted asked him what he'd seen and let him go into detail. And even though Sam had only seen him once before, he sensed that Ted was sympathetic and friendly, and liked children. Sam could tell.
“Nope. I'm not going to arrest you. But I brought you something,” Ted said, reaching into his coat pocket. He hadn't told Fernanda he was going to give the boy a gift. While he was talking to her, he'd forgotten about it. He handed something to Sam then, who reached out and took it and gave a gasp when he saw it. It was a shiny brass star, much like the silver one that Ted carried in his wallet. “You're a deputy police inspector now, Sam. It means you always have to tell the truth, and if you see any bad guys hanging around, or suspicious people, you have to call us.” It had a number one on it, under the initials of the SFPD, and was a gift they gave to friends of the department. Sam looked as though his new friend had just handed him a diamond. Fernanda smiled at the look on his face, and then at Ted, to thank him. It was a nice thing to do. And Sam was thrilled.
“That's pretty impressive. Very impressive.” She smiled at her son, and walked into the room with Ted behind her. As everything else was in the house, the room was beautifully decorated. It was done in dark blue with accents of red and yellow, and there was everything in it a boy could want, including a large TV to watch videos on, a stereo, and a bookshelf with games and toys and books on it. And in the middle of the room were a pile of Legos and a remote-controlled car he'd been playing with when they walked in. There was a window seat too, which was where Ted suspected Sam had been when he'd been watching the street on Sunday, and saw the adult male he didn't remember in detail. Ted handed him the mug shot of Carlton Waters then, and asked Sam if he'd ever seen him.
Sam stood and stared at it for a long time, as his mother had. There was something about Waters's eyes that hooked you into them in an eerie way, even on paper. And Ted knew after his visit to him in Modesto the day before that Waters's eyes were even colder in person. Ted said nothing to distract the boy, he just stood quietly and waited, while both adults watched him with interest. Sam was clearly thinking and combing his memory for some sign of recognition, and finally he handed the photograph back and shook his head, but he still seemed to be thinking. Ted noticed that too.
“He looks scary,” Sam commented, as he gave Ted back the mug shot.
“Too scary to say you've seen him?” Ted asked him carefully, watching his eyes. “Remember, you're a deputy now. You have to tell us what you remember. He's never going to know you told us, if you did see him, Sam.” As he had Fernanda, Ted wanted to reassure him, but Sam shook his head again.
“I think the man had blond hair like him, but he didn't look like him.”
“What makes you say that? Do you remember more about what the man on the street looked like?” Sometimes things came back later. It was a phenomenon that happened to adults too.
“No,” Sam said honestly. “But when I look at the picture, I know I don't remember seeing him. Is he a bad guy?” Sam asked with interest, and he didn't look frightened. He was safe at home with his new police detective friend, and his mother, and he knew that nothing could harm him. Bad things had never happened to him, except for losing his dad, but it never even occurred to him that someone would want to hurt him.
“A very bad guy,” Ted responded to his question.
“Did he kill someone?” Sam found it extremely interesting. To him it was just an exciting story, there was no reality to it. And as a result, no sense of danger.
“He killed two people, with a friend.” Fernanda looked instantly worried by what Ted told him. She didn't want Ted to tell Sam about the two children they had harmed as well. She didn't want Sam to have nightmares, as he had frequently since his father died. He was afraid she would die too, or even that he would. It was age appropriate for him, but also normal after what had just happened to his father. Ted instinctively knew that. He had children of his own, and was not going to frighten Sam unduly. “They put him in prison for a long time for it.” Ted knew it was important to tell him that he had been punished for it. He wasn't just a random killer roaming the streets, without consequences for his behavior.
“But he's out now?” Sam asked with interest. He had to be, if Ted thought he had been walking down their street on Sunday and wanted to know if Sam had seen him.
“He got out last week, but he was in prison for twenty-four years. I think he learned his lesson,” he continued to reassure him. It was a fine line to walk with a child his age, but Ted was doing his best. He had always been good with children, and loved them. Fernanda could see that, and guessed that he must have kids of his own. He wore a wedding band on his left hand, so she knew he was married.
“Then why did you think he blew up the car?” Sam asked sensibly, which was another good question. Sam was a bright boy, and had a strong sense of logic.
“You never know when someone will turn up where you don't expect them to. Now that you're a deputy, you'll have to learn that, Sam. You have to check out every lead, no matter how unlikely it seems. Sometimes you get a big surprise, and find your man that way.”
“Do you think he did it? The car, I mean?” Sam was fascinated by the process.
“No, I don't. But it was worth coming over here to check it out. What if this photograph was the man you'd seen and I hadn't bothered to show it to you? He might have gotten away with it, and we don't want that to happen, do we?” Sam shook his head, as the two adults smiled at each other and Ted put the mug shot back in the manila envelope. He hadn't thought Waters was dumb enough to do something as obvious as that, but you never knew. And now he had an additional piece of information from Sam at least. He knew the suspect was blond. A small piece of the car bombing puzzle had fallen into place. It didn't hurt. “I like your room, by the way,” he said congenially to the boy. “You've got a lot of great stuff.”
“Do you have kids?” Sam asked, looking up at him. He was still holding his star, as though it was now the most precious thing he owned, and to him, it was. It had been a thoughtful gift from Ted, and Fernanda was touched.
“Yes, I do.” Ted smiled at him and ruffled his hair in a fatherly way. “They're all big guys now. Two of them are in college, and one works in New York.”
“Is he a cop?”
“No, he's a stockbroker. None of my boys want to be cops,” he said. He'd been disappointed at first, but now he'd decided it was just as well. It was tiresome, often tedious, dangerous work. Ted had always loved what he did, and was glad he had. But Shirley had always stressed academics and education to them. One of his boys in college wanted to go to law school after he graduated, and the other was in pre-med. He was proud of them. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Ted asked with interest, although Sam was way too young to know. But he suspected the boy missed having his father around, and it was nice for him to have a few minutes to chat with a man. He didn't know Fernanda's circumstances since her hus-band's death, but on the two occasions he'd come to the house, he didn't have the feeling there was a man around, other than her oldest son. And she had the stressed, nervous, vulnerable look of a woman who was coping with a lot on her own.
“I want to be a baseball player,” Sam announced, “or maybe a cop,” he said, glancing down lovingly at the brass star in his hands, and the two adults smiled again. Fernanda stood there thinking what a good boy he was, just as Will walked in. He had heard adult voices in the room next to his and wondered who it was. He smiled when he saw Ted, and Sam instantly told him he was a deputy now.
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